As Pops Watches
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: This is another installment for the 2019 Christmas story challenge. FaithinBones' most recent update gave me the idea for this story.


Pops

**A/N: Yesterday FaithinBones posted a chapter for "candy" to her story "Christmas Bones Style" which really hit home and touched me deeply, as many of her writings do. She took a mundane holiday treat and transformed it into a treasure. Writing a review for her Chapter 6 sparked this chapter idea, which carries her scene in Booth's garage a little further.**

Hank Booth was perched on his favorite, most comfortable cloud, which reminded him of the old recliner in his row house in Philly. When he moved to Willow River Retirement Center, his older grandson had claimed the 'yellow monstrosity' as his wife had called it, and moved it to his little apartment over the Sportsman Liquor Store in D.C. Booth had transported it from there to his first home with the Bone Lady, much to Brennan's chagrin. Pops chuckled to himself. _Women might steer a household. but men could still get their goat occasionally by loving an ugly but comfortable orphan waif piece of furniture. Sometimes a man's gotta claim a piece of his home after all…. _

Pops returned his attention to the scene unfolding in Rockville, MD this Saturday morning. It had been two years since he found himself at the Pearly Gates, and spied Margaret standing just inside waiting for him to join her. _What a reunion that was…_

Booth's unjust and unwarranted imprisonment had been the second hardest experience of his life. Right behind the realization that Edwin was abusing his wife and two little boys. Acknowledging that as hard as they had tried, he and Margaret had apparently failed to settle their son's mind or ease his frustrations after the turmoil of Vietnam. Banishing the angry man from his own house to rescue terrified grandsons had been Hank's only possible choice.

He remembered how aghast Margaret had been when they entered the house. She had welcomed Seeley and Jared as if their appearance was a normal weekend visit, but that night in bed, hearing what Hank had witnessed, she sobbed into his shoulder for hours. Great shuddering sobs until she finally cried herself to sleep. The next morning, the two of them had become parents all over again, restoring the boys to normalcy as best they could

"_Geez, focus Hank!_" he told himself. "_Let's see what Shrimp's reaction is to the next box. Ah, Granma Edna's quilts! How warm and cozy those were to sleep under!" _He rolled his shoulders, remembering their soft downy feel. His mother had taken particular care of those two lovingly-handmade items, made as wedding gifts in 1926.

She always placed them on Hank's and Frannie's beds the first Sunday of Advent and left them in place until Epiphany after which she carefully stored them away cushioned with layers of tissue paper saved from their Christmas boxes. As little kids, Hank and his sister had known the sight of these quilts signaled the holiday season, prompting extra-good behavior for the next several weeks in hopes of surprises from Santa. If there was one thing his mother knew how to do, aside from her superb baking, it was creating a mood of celebration for her family which added to each holiday without costing a dime.

Peering over the edge of his cloud, Hank watched Seeley far below. Being able to read loved ones' thoughts was one additional perk of heaven he enjoyed when checking on the welfare of his family. His grandsons hadn't changed a bit; predictable as rain. Jared had always been too impulsive; Shrimp too cautious and thoughtful to be a kid. The boy over-analyzed every situation. 'Course given Edwin's torrential fathering, that was to be expected. Having Jared show up wearing wings; now that was one gloomy day despite heaven's eternal sunshine….

"_Back to the present,"_ Hank reminded himself.

Seeley had just lifted one of the quilts gently and placed it on his lap, rubbing the fabric carefully between his fingers like a sleepy toddler. _Just like he did to calm himself into sleep_, Hank remembered. The tall lanky man he loved so much returned the quilt to its box and closed the lid. _One more box to go…Oh, I remember. This is the one._

The Christmas box. The colorful old silvered glass ornaments; real metallic tinsel, the string of bubble lights. _Wonder if those still work?_ All those amusingly treasured childish artless creations. Some made by their grandsons, others made by Edwin and Frannie. Although Booth assumed the oldest handmade decorations all came from his dad, the better ones were Aunt Frannie's. How much effort and concentration she had put into hand-crafting those paper chains, coloring mimeographed Nativity pictures, and sprinkling too much glitter on glue-covered construction paper Santas. She cut out and assembled her paste and paper ornaments much better than Edwin; that boy always ended up eating the min-flavored white paste. _Why in tarnation would a manufacturer label children's glue with that notation anyway? Fools! Anything to sell a product… _

Hank returned to Shrimp-watching. One or two more layer of tissue paper and then he'd find the surprise at the bottom of that box. _Can't believe Temperance saved it, bless her soul._ In spite of the chance a tin of candy could rust and attract ants, his beloved grand-daughter-in-law had seen the gift tag taped to the can and saved it for Booth to find. _That girl is a treasure for sure; best blessing Seeley ever received; even if she doesn't believe in God._

A slow grin spread across Hank Booth's face. It seemed he smiled all the time up here, but this was a special moment indeed. A sudden thought occurred to him. This was a moment to share.

"_**Margaret!"**_ he bellowed, breaking the tranquility of heaven. His startled wife appeared immediately, hands on her hips, scowling indignantly at her impertinent husband. (That was one of the nifty things about heaven—instantaneous communication and transport.)

"_**Henry Joseph Booth, Sr.! What on earth are you yelling about?"**_

"_Ahhh,"_ his wife's voice softened as she glimpsed the scene far below…"_Seeley_…."

Margaret Booth settled herself gracefully on the cloud next to her husband, shaking her head at this patriarch who had never outgrown the exuberance she first loved about him. Her mischievous grin and sparkling eyes captivated Hank all over again.

"_You old fool,"_ she murmured. _"How sweet you were to those boys."_

She reached over and took his hand. _"Did he find my violin?"_ she asked softly, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear Hank describe it.

"_Yes, Honey, you knew I'd save it. Shrimp thinks our Christine or little Hank might be musically inclined like you were. You know how sentimental Shrimp is. He'd never part with a possession as treasured as that violin of yours,"_ Hank answered fondly. _"You should see the odd assortment of stuff he and Temperance value…fertility statues, shrunken heads, battered airplane wings, worn out recliners…"_

He stopped himself and chuckled. _"Of course you already know all this…"_

"_Darling ol' fool," _she said again. _"That dang chair…"_

The pair watched as Booth pulled back several layers of tissue paper, revealing the festive, almost garish holiday tin.

"_There it is," _Hank whispered._ "Last gift I ever bought him, hoping he'd be out of prison by Christmas, just in case I wasn't around to give it to him, but never really thinking I wouldn't be…"_

"_It was time," _Margaret replied quietly._ "I'd been missing you for so long; the only emotion heaven can't heal…"_

"_Okay, Girlie, enough about us,_" Hank chided her with a gentle kiss. _"This is the good part! I've been watchin' all morning as Shrimp worked his way through each box, til he found our old Christmas stuff. You know it's taken him two years to handle this, poor boy."_

"_I know, Hank I know. Now hush, you're spoilin' the mood!" _Margaret fussed. They watched as Booth picked up the tin of old fashioned hard candy. _"How did we ever think that was the best-tastin' stuff on earth? Its taste never measured up to its festive appearance. Fudge and divinity are so much tastier. Though it is very colorful…"_ she mused.

"_Hush, Maggie, he's about to see it."_

Booth pried the tight metal lid from the candy tin, amazed that it still sealed so well. Eyeing the colorful jumble of ribbon candy, fruit-flavored pillows, peppermint disks, lemon drops, and syrup-filled strawberry lozenge shapes, he picked out one to try. The orange kind he'd liked most. None of them were anywhere as delectable as chocolate, but they were as much a part of his grandparents' Christmas as the Nativity scene on their mantle. The cherry ones reminded him too much of cough syrup, and the peppermints made his eyes water.

He studied the transparent disk with its orange illustration for a moment, then popped it into his mouth.

"_That boy always took longer eating candy than any kid I knew; I guess some things never change,"_ Margaret told Hank.

Far below, Booth turned the open tin, examining each side. Spotting a gift label affixed with yellowing Scotch tape, he smiled slowly. Replacing the lid, he stared at the small paper rectangle for a long time.

"To Seeley. Love, Pops."

"_Why didn't you write 'To Shrimp'?"_ Margaret asked.

"_Didn't wanna embarrass the boy, Maggie. Never thought it would take him this long to read it. Figured he'd find it a few months later on Christmas morning, surrounded by shredded tissue and gift wrap, with little Christine in his lap."_

"_Good thinkin' Dobe,"_ Margaret replied, referring to their favorite sit-com, "The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis."

Haven't thought about that show in years," Hank smiled. "We need to look up Bob Denver up here one of these days."

Continuing to watch their grandson, Hank clapped Margaret on the back, and exclaimed,

"_See, Shrimp, I knew you'd beat that rap they threw at you! I always said you could be stronger than the circumstances life puts in your way; you just gotta keep faith, rely on that beautiful lady scientist of yours, and be strong until things get better. Mind you, I'm well aware that an undeserved prison sentence is a mighty big obstacle! But God, Temperance, and your brainy lab friends were on your side. Workin' their hearts out to clear your good name; pulling for you. None of them ever doubted you for a minute!"_

"_Oof, it's a good thing my bones are unbreakable now, Hank Booth!" _Margaret laughed. _'You liked ta' broke my shoulder!"_

"_Sorry, Mags,"_ Hank apologized, hugging her gently. "_I know that's just a Christmas gift tag, but I think it's a message Shrimp will cherish and remember. Maybe it'll encourage him the next time he's facing another big obstacle. "Cause you know that's how things are; ya never know what life will throw at you around the next bend in the road, right?"_

"_You're very wise, Henry Booth," Margaret told him. "And a good father to all three of our boys, and Frannie. It's why you got in here, despite your missteps," she assured him._

"_You got that from the top, did you?" he chuckled._

"_Sure did," _she smirked, then stopped_. "Oh, look," _she said, pointing downward.

Cradling the colorful tin of even more colorful Christmas candy, Booth rubbed his finger gently across the faded gift label. Wiping his fist across his eyes, he craned his neck and looked skyward.

"Thanks, Pops, that's a message I'll remember forever. Until I can thank you in person. Because missing your funeral and saying good-bye was almost unbearable. So this thought's gotta be enough for now. But in spite of what Bones thinks, I know you can hear me. Take care of Jared, and tell Gramma hello. I love you both. So much."

Hank tightened his arm around Margaret's shoulders. "_Our boy's gonna be fine, in spite of losing Jared, Honey." _

Booth's cell phone chimed and he pulled it from his pocket. "We're nearly home, Booth. We looked at all the dinosaurs twice and toured the Christmas Around the World exhibit as slowly as possible. I hope you're finished because Hank is raring to tell you all about his morning."

"Thanks for the heads up, Bones. Yes, I'm finished. I'll re-stack these boxes and meet you in the kitchen."

The agent stood up from the tool box he'd been seated on, replaced it under his work bench, put the candy tin back and closed the Christmas box. He restacked the other five boxes and carried the sixth inside. Placing it on the counter, he walked to the front window of their house, watching for his family.

Brennan's royal blue Prius swung into the driveway and came to a stop behind the Mustang. Booth could see Hank straining against his safety straps while Christine waited patiently until her mother unbuckled the seat belt from her booster seat. He opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch as the little girl raced up the steps. He caught her in a hug.

"Did you have a good morning with Momma?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy! Great fun! I'm ready for hot chocolate!" Christine told him.

Booth descended the steps as Hank barreled toward him. Scooping the toddler up in his arms, he swung the giggling boy upside down and walked to the kitchen.

"Dad-dy! Put me down! Now!" his son demanded.

"Whadda'ya say?"

"Peeease!"

Booth plopped the child into his high chair and opened the cabinet door for the cocoa mix as Brennan came into the kitchen and kissed him.

Her husband pointed to the box. "Look what I found inside, Bones."

Brennan smiled. "I knew that gift would mean the world to you, Booth."

"Of course, you did. If you hadn't saved all Pops' stuff for me…." His voice trailed off. "Thanks, Bones."

Christine piped up. "What's in the box, Daddy? It looks kinda old."

"Some of your Great-Grand-Pop's Christmas things, Monkey. Decorations I made as a kid, and a tin of old candy. We can look at them after your snack."

"Can we put the decorations on our tree?"

"After Hank's down for his nap, Chrissy. They're kind of fragile; we'll have to put them up high, so your little brother can look but not touch for a few more years."

"Then let's hurry, Daddy! I wanna see them!"

"Cocoa, peeease!" little Hank agreed loudly.

"Be a little more patient, young man," Brennan told her son as she pulled a mug of hot water from the microwave and stirred in the hot chocolate powder with marshmallows. Booth tied Hank's bib and placed a sugar cookie in front of his kids.

"Both of you, eat slowly and chew well," cautioned Brennan as she kissed Booth again.

Pops and Grams watched fondly as their little family bustled around with Christmas gaiety. _"They sound like us, don't they, Maggie? How lucky we are!"_

"_More like blessed, Hank, don'cha think?_"

A tall man came up behind them, engulfing the couple in a bear hug.

"_Grams, I've been lookin' all over hell's half acre for you up here!"_ he exclaimed.

"_Jared Francis Booth, you can't talk like that up here,"_ Margaret scolded.

"_Sorry, Grams. I still forget where I am….can't believe I actually made it in here. Guess I wasn't all bad down there…Where can we go to catch up? Where's Aunt Frannie?"_

**A/N: For younger readers who might not be aware of Bob Denver, he was an actor well known for "Gilligan's Island" who also portrayed Dwayne Hickman's beatnik sidekick Maynard G. Krebs on the "Dobie Gillis" show. He passed away in 2005.**


End file.
